


a million silly love songs later

by moonteeth (orphan_account)



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Tent Sex, because suckin' your bro's dick in your flimsy outdoor tent is the epitome of modern romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 07:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11664327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/moonteeth
Summary: "Bro," Reed said, letting a hot, languorous exhale skate over the tip of Craig's cock. "Bro, I'm giving you a brojob."Craig let out a shaky little laugh, the sound somewhat incongruous when interspersed around long moans and sharp breaths."Shit, of course you would—ah,mngh— be cracking jokes even with a mouth full of dick."





	a million silly love songs later

  
"You're so," Reed gasped between an onslaught of kisses, Craig's hands winding into his dark hair and pulling hard. "You're, you're just so _much_ , you know?"  
  
"Um," Craig laughed against Reed's lips. His hands, strong and dry, had settled onto the slim curve of Reed's hips. Instinctively, Reed brought his hands up to feather over Craig's bare chest, loving the warm, solid feel of him—  smooth skin pulled taut over hard muscle. "Not really?"

The kiss wasn't at all like in the movies, which meant that it was exactly like every film ever made. Like Rhett and Scarlett, or probably like Abbott and Costello, their noses  bumped awkwardly for a bit, they swore a lot, and reverted to nervous laughter when Reed rolled on top of Craig with such vigorous enthusiasm he nearly toppled back down to the ground.

It was kind of funny, the way Craig could inspire both a feeling of age-old nostalgia and total, invigorating exploration. In the same way that their urgent, earnest fumbling called back to the clumsy tumbles of Reed's youth, there was also something bright and intense in this that was... intensely, completely new.  
  
And it was bitchin' _awesome_.  
  
"It's just so... _so_ , you know?" Reed waved a hand vaguely, then, quite abruptly, gave up. He dropped his head down onto Craig's shoulder, laughter echoing out of him from somewhere deep and low within. "Jeez, don't laugh. You know I'm not good with words. Words of any kind, really. Interaction with other humans, that kinda stuff."  
  
"Your puns are unbeatable, though," Craig said, hands still carding through Reed's hair, pushing it out of his eyes with a slow, surgical precision; a fascination. He was probably ruining it. Reed didn't care. Not when he could feel Craig's cock between the thin layers of their underwear, hot and hard and motherfuckin' _yes_.  
  
"That's true," Reed said, leaning in to kiss Craig. In the darkness, he missed, lips landing on the corner of Craig's instead. He navigated his way back to Craig's tongue slowly. "My puns are top fuckin' notch," he murmured before diving back in for a long, deep kiss. Maybe not stellar bedroom talk, but whatever, they were in their forties now. They could afford to be a little lame.  
  
Every touch was slowed, somehow, to a silent unraveling. Even once they were naked, the cool air did not stir. Only their hands stirred, frantic and grasping. Reed's skin was hot against Craig's, soft with fever-dampness and bone-deep tremors.  
  
"I've got you," Craig said, and Reed felt something in him white out—  something that had been whirring and gnashing non-stop in his head for years. Craig's hands were on his hips, his belly, his cock, and Reed felt himself being drawn up into Craig's arms. They kissed, too close for words. "I've got you."

There was something heady in this, the urgent sound of Craig's voice in his ear. Reed felt a spark of something hot and delirious burst in his gut, and it took him a moment to realize he was speaking as well.

"I wanna get you off," he was saying, _gasping_ against Craig. His hands refused to remain still, wandering over Craig's warm, toned body with an increasing urgency; this desperate, ugly need to feel _him_.  "Please, please, just let me—  fuck. Wanna get you off, wanna suck you— "

And then, Craig's hands were on Reed's shoulders, guiding him down as he inched to rest between Craig's thighs. If he'd taken more than 5 seconds to actually think the situation over, he'd probably feel insanely awkward—  but caught between the firm give of Craig's body, face level with Craig's cock, all he could think was _fuckity fuck yeah_. Which was, really, probably the best attitude to have going into this situation. After all, it'd been a long time since he'd done anything like this. Kind of embarrassingly long. Long enough that Reed was probably at risk of having his Official Cocksucker Licence revoked.

He started cautiously, running the flat of his tongue over the side of Craig's cock, tongue curling beneath the undersides of the tip before Neah stopped and decided to lick over the slit, tasting the slick of precome there. This was a salty, musky taste. Strange, of course—  but Reed found he actually sort of liked it. Which was probably kind of gross of him, but hey, whatever. He worked up and down Craig's cock with his mouth, stopping occasionally to focus on a certain point at the side or at the base.  
  
"Bro," Reed said, letting a hot, languorous exhale skate over the tip of Craig's cock. "Bro, I'm giving you a brojob."  
  
Craig let out a shaky little laugh, the sound somewhat incongruous when interspersed around long moans and sharp breaths.  
  
"Shit, of course you _would_ — _ah_ , mngh— be cracking jokes even with a mouth full of dick."  
  
"My comedic genius stops for nothing," Reed preened, mouthing over the side of Craig's dick, lavishing the base with broad, horizontal licks. "Not even for your cock." He drew the flat of his tongue all the way back up to the crown, provoking a long, low moan from Craig, the sound travelling down an express line straight to Reed's own dick. "No offense to your cock, though," he continued, pulling his lips away from Craig's cock with a slick, obscene _pop_. "It's a great cock. Ten out of ten. Would recommend."  
  
Craig made a sharp, exasperated sound, his hands fumbling through the semi-darkness to grip into Reed's hair.  
  
"Didn't your father ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" He panted. There was something low and dangerous in his tone. Suddenly, his voice seemed to fill up the tent entirely, like a thick, dark smoke.  
  
A hot curl of arousal burned through Reed's stomach, and he glanced up at Craig, licking his lips. He felt he was straining against his pants, barely able to keep himself from grinding embarrassingly against the floor of the tent.  
  
"I might've missed that lesson," Reed said. Then, feeling uncharacteristically bold, "Why, you gonna shut me up?"  
  
"I just might have to," Craig said. To match his words, he drew his strong hands into fists, giving Reed's hair a sharp, experimental tug that brought him towards the edge of what would almost certainly be an embarrassing little whine. Then, abruptly, his grip went lax. "I mean. If you're into that."  
  
"Bro," Reed said, speaking on the tail end of a breathy, helpless little laugh. "You're, um, 100% welcome to dominate the _fuck_ out of me. Just tossing that out there."  
  
"Whoa," Craig said. He stared down at Reed with wide eyes, bracing himself up on his elbows. "Bro."  
  
"I know," Reed admitted, and when he leaned back in to taste Craig, he realized his hips were shaking. Craig's hands were in his hair again, yanking him down, hips occasionally jumping upwards in these shallow little thrusts that only drove his cock deeper into Reed's mouth. The sensation was nothing short of dizzying— the thought that Craig was fucking into him, forcing his throat.  
  
For a flash of a moment, as Craig's cock nudged the back of his throat, Reed thought he might choke. Then, he found himself vaguely hoping that he would.  
  
Then, Craig was dragging Reed upwards by the hair, yanking him forwards back up into his lap— "Get up here, baby," he said, voice rougher than Reed had ever heard it, fucking _wrecked_. "Wanna see you come. Make you come for me."  
  
“Oh,” Reed said, kind of dumb, and then— “Oh, _oh_ ,” as Craig bit down on his neck and wrapped a firm hand around his cock in the same moment.  
  
"Can't wait to get you back home," Craig whispered harshly. Reed fumbled for Craig's cock with his hands, spit-slick and throbbing hard and God, what he wouldn't give to ride him into the ground right now. "Gonna throw you on the bed, spread your legs—"  
  
Reed moaned wantonly in reply, bucking up against Craig's hand, burying his face against Craig's temple. “Please,” he begged softly. “Please, fuck, Craig, please— just—”  
  
"Pin you down and fuck you senseless—"  
  
And then Reed's mouth was on Craig's, and they both went beautifully, dizzyingly silent. It was almost too much, Craig licking into Reed's mouth, controlling the kiss, Reed doing all he could to not just fall apart under Craig's lips, his hands, his fucking body. His head felt hot, his whole body felt hot, moving in and grinding against Craig's with mindless, helpless abandon.  
  
He came with an embarrassingly high, breath-caught sound— one he hoped qualified as more of a _sexy whine_  than a _strangled wail_. Craig came a moment later, groaning in something like shock as he hit his climax with a blind thrust against Reed's body. There was come on Reed's stomach, Reed's thighs, his hands. Hot. Filthy. Fucking fantastic.  
  
Reed sighed hazily, clutching at Craig's back. "Oh,” he said softly, again.  
  
Craig blinked hard, lifting his head to stare at Reed with dark, hazy eyes.  
  
“Are… are you…?”  
  
“I’m…” Reed exhaled warm and damp over Craig's neck. Then he drew in a breath that turned into a stupid little laugh. "I'm... kind of wishing I'd had the forethought to pack, y'know, lube and condoms."  
  
"That," Craig breathed, smiling this dopey, wonderful smile, "would've been a little presumptuous."  
  
“Well, maybe," Reed said, pressing a quick, impulsive kiss to Craig's cheek. Slowly, he began to untangle himself from Craig. Craig was quick to respond, nudging Reed onto his side on the sleeping blanket, pressing up against his back and smoothing the hothouse curl of sweat-dampened hair from his forehead. Reed was sweaty and gross and Craig was sweaty and gross, but it felt wrong to do anything but stay close. In a breathless rush, Reed continued, "I guess it just, um, goes to show that... well. I never expected to have you."  
  
"Well," Craig said, the sound rumbling out of him, dark as smoke and smooth as honey. "You you have me."  
  
"I have you," Reed repeated. Despite himself, he found another laugh shaking up, right out from his bones. "It almost seems kind of crazy. I mean, you're just... so _you_ , and I'm..."  
  
"I'll kick your twink ass if you attempt even _one_ self-deprecating comment, bro."  
  
Reed turned his face into the crook of Craig's arm.  
  
"Bitch, you can't call me a twink. I'm like, forty."  
  
"I'll stop saying it when it stops being true," Craig pressed a chaste kiss to Reed's forehead, and Reed hummed. "You twink."  
  
They were lying chest-to-chest, now, faces close, eyes burning so bright through the film of darkness. It occurred to Reed that he had no reason to resist kissing Craig. So he kissed him. This was a lazy kiss, a kiss without urgency. It was a kiss that existed for its own sake, beautiful and complete, and Craig melted into it with unexpected gentleness. Languid. Slow. Relaxed.  
  
Reed tallied that as a personal victory.  
  
"I wonder what your momtourage is gonna say," he said idly, leaning out of the kiss to steal a breath. Craig's hands feathered over Reed's waist, securing him. Physical affection was totally some dope shit. Then, considering his own words, his face fell into an expression of horror. "God, Janet. This is it. This is the end. I'm gonna be disemboweled by a soccer mom."  
  
"Softball mom," Craig corrected vaguely, eyes still roaming over Reed's mouth, perhaps considering another kiss. "You're going to be disemboweled by a _softball_ mom."  
  
"Is the distinction important?" Reed temporized. Craig let out a low hum.  
  
"Softball moms are definitely the more vicious breed."  
  
"Right, right," Reed said. "Unlike their gentle, cuddly counterpart, the softball dad."  
  
"Mmm," Craig said, a sound Reed felt more than heard. "I'm pretty cuddly."  
  
"Hell yeah you are, bro," Reed said, curling into the steady rise and fall of Craig's chest; this shimmering, untouchable, complete moment of warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> fuckhowardlink @ twitter


End file.
